


Like Them

by Child_of_Athena



Category: Back to the Future (Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Flashbacks, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt, Murder, References to Addiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:08:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23210719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Child_of_Athena/pseuds/Child_of_Athena
Summary: "Mom," said Marty, "What gave you and dad the idea for my name? "Linda smiled and ran her fingers through her son's dark curly hair. "Martin George Snyder. You were named after my father, George, and my little brother, Marty. They were amazing, talented people, and I hoped that by naming you after them, I would help you become like them.""Did it work? Am I like them?""Yes," Linda paused. Then she pulled her son close to her. The painful memories were from a time long gone. She hadn't spoken of her family in years, but maybe it was time to open up and let out the tears. "Come here, Marty. Let me tell you a story."
Relationships: Dave McFly & Linda McFly, George McFly/Lorraine Baines McFly, Linda McFly & Marty McFly, Lorraine Baines McFly/Biff Tannen, Marty McFly & Biff Tannen
Comments: 1
Kudos: 25





	Like Them

**Author's Note:**

> * has dark shower thoughts *  
> I don't know... Enjoy I guess? If you ever wondered how 1985A would have ended up without Marty's and Doc's interference.

Whenever he is worried about his dad, Marty climbs the big oak tree in his front yard. Marty's dad is a pilot in the U.S. Air Force, and his job is incredibly dangerous. And he is his son's best friend. Marty doesn't say he was an introvert, exactly, he just has to move around a lot. He has some cousins on his dad's side, but they all live far away and so do his paternal grandparents. And pretty much everybody on his mom's side of the family is dead. So, growing up, Marty's best friends are his parents- Linda McFly Snyder and Drew Snyder.

Drew just left to go back to Afghanistan yesterday, so Marty is up in his tree, thinking. He tries to think of something besides whether his dad is okay. He tries to think about his newest idea for a story, (a really good one about a disabled boy who gets superpowers and has to defend the world from the living embodiment of chaos) but he keeps getting stuck on the character's name. The one Marty initially chose just doesn't seem to fit anymore. Then he starts wondering why he has the name he has.

Marty is startled out of his thoughts by the sound of someone else climbing up the tree. He looks down to see his mom, and scoots over to make room for her. She swings herself into the branch to join him.

"Hey kiddo." She says. "Whatcha thinking about."

"Mom," says Marty, "What gave you and dad the idea for my name? "

Linda smiles and runs her fingers through her son's dark curly hair. "Martin George Snyder. You were named after my father, George, and my little brother, Marty. They were amazing, talented people, and I hoped that by naming you after them, I would help you become like them."

"Did it work? Am I like them?"

"Yes," Linda pauses. Then she pulls her son close to her. The painful memories are from a time long gone. She hasn't spoken of her family in years, but maybe it is time to open up and let out the tears. "Come here, Marty. Let me tell you a story."

" Okay, " says Marty slowly. "What about?"

" My family. " Linda says. "Marty, you know that my parents and siblings died before you were born, and that we were mostly raised by our stepfather, Biff Tannen."

" Yeah, "

Linda sighs. "Well, I'm about to tell you something I haven't really good anyone about in years, because it's too painful."

"you don't have to tell me if you don't want to, " says Marty quickly, even though he desperately wants to know.

"It's alright." Linda says. "These memories have been bottled up inside me for too long. I need to get them out. Besides, you are named after my father and brother. You have a right to know what happened to them."

Marty smiles. "I'm listening,"

Linda takes a deep breath. "My parents met for real at a school dance back in 1955..."

It was under very unusual circumstances, too. My mom, Lorraine Baines, was pretty and popular. Everybody seemed to know her, and I doubt whether there was a single guy who wished he was taking her to the Enchantment Under the Sea dance. My father, George McFly was a nerdy nobody who was always pushed around by bullies who were bigger and stronger than he was. He would much rather have stayed home that night and watched his TV show than to to the dance. Sure, he had a crush on my mom, but he was too scared to do anything about it.

Then a new kid came to town. He called himself Calvin "Marty" McFly, and said he was the nephew of Doc Brown, the local eccentric scientist. My grandpa Sam accidentally hit Marty with his car, and my mother nursed him. She got Florence Nightingale syndrome and fell in love with Marty while watching him sleep. My mother described Marty as a strange young man in strange clothing, who seemed to be perpetually confused.

For some inexplicable reason, Marty took a liking to my father, and seemed determined to get him to take my mother to the dance. But when he introduced them, my mother only had eyes for Marty. Initially, my father refused to ask my mother out, partly because he knew that his biggest bully, Biff Tannen, wanted to take my mother to the dance.

Each time he told the story, my dad told of how he'd been visited in a dream by Darth Vader, an extraterrestrial from the planet Vulcan. Remember, this was 1955, long before the existence of Star Wars of Star Trek. Apparently, Vader said that my father had to take my mother to the dance, or Vader would melt his brains. So, my dad enlisted Marty's help. Somewhere along the way they must have gotten sidetracked, because Marty ended up taking my mom to the dance. He still convinced my dad to go alone, maybe so they could at least dance together.

My dad became too awkward alone, so he set off to head home. He saw Biff and my mother struggling inside Marty's car- Biff's gang must have disposed of Marty. He somehow worked up the courage to pull Biff out of the car and pnch him in the face, rendering him unconscious. They went back into the dance together, where they found Marty playing guitar onstage. They danced and kissed to "Earth Angel".

My parents asked Marty if it was alright for my father to take my mother home, and he agreed, saying he "had a feeling about those two." They never saw him again. My dad proposed in 1957, when he named the heroine of his first published article after my mom. They got married in January 1958. That same year, my dad got a job writing science fiction for Science Times, and started to make a name for himself.

Meanwhile, Biff Tannen started making it big getting on sporting events. He just couldn't seem to lose. An unofficial competition arose between Biff and my dad as to who was Hill Valley's number one citizen. The talented, charismatic science fiction author or the luckiest man on earth?

In 1963, my older brother Dave was born. He was a wild child and seemed to get into everything. My dad was promoted to co-editor of Science Times in 1964. I was born in 1965, and my little brother Marty was born three years later. Our parents were the most incredible people. They were kind and understanding, and they taught us from an early age that we could do anything if we put our minds to it. Mom loved to take me shopping, and Dad entertained us with his fantastical stories of robots and aliens and time travel. Because of my dad's job, we always had enough money. We weren't spoiled, though. Our parents taught us the value of hard work. But we always had enough to eat and we never had hand me downs. The first eight years of my life were wonderful. Then everything came crashing down.

On March 15, 1973, my father was murdered- shot in the head while driving home from the post office. We were all devastated. Poor Marty was too young to even remember him. My mother struggled desperately to find a job. She worked every shift she could at the Hill Valley hospital. Dave and I tried our best to help out in any way we could. We did our chores and homework without complaint, did odd jobs around the neighborhood (mowing lawns, pulling weeds, raking leaves, walking dogs), and took turns watching over Marty. I even learned to cook!

Unfortunately, there was only so much we could do. Slowly, bit by bit, the bills piled up. Bills that, no matter how hard we tried, just couldn't be paid. Enter Biff Tannen. After years and years, Biff was still winning big betting on sporting events. He wasn't the mayor of Hill Valley, but he acted like he was. Two years earlier he had actually bought the town's historic courthouse and started to renovate it into a casino hotel, adding 22 stories. And he still had a crush on my mother.

The first time Biff proposed to my mother, she refused. But finally, she gave in. She married him for his money, not for her but for us. She didn't want us to starve or be homeless. Looking back, I would much rather have lived on the streets than had my mother marry Biff.

Dave and I learned to deal with Biff. We stayed out of his way as much as possible and tried to appease him and not make him mad. He tolerated us and sometimes rewarded our good behavior or grades with presents. Whenever Biff gave us presents, Marty always seemed to be skipped somehow. Biff always hated Marty, no matter what he did. I suppose it was because he was too much like our father, whom Biff had hated.

As he entered his teenage years with no father to guide him, Dave started mixing with bad crowds. I, well, I tried my best to keep my family afloat.

In 1976, Biff discovered that my mother had been hiding something from him: a binder containing my father's notes and story ideas from the time he was a teenager right up to his death. Biff was already filthy rich (by then he had all of Hill Valley under his thumb and we lived in a penthouse on the 27th floor of "Biff's Pleasure Palace" or what had become of the courthouse ) but he couldn't pass up any extra money, and he figured people would pay big money for "The Posthumous Words of George McFly" . My mother refused to give up the binder, as it was all she had left of my father. Then Biff threatened that if she didn't agree to his plan, he'd take away her rights to my brothers and I and put us in foster care. She valued us more than the binder and called Biff while he was away in business to tell her she agreed. That night, the binder vanished.

Biff was furious. The police ransacked our penthouse but could find no trace of it. He came to the conclusion that one of us had disposed of the binder to keep it out of his hands, so he decided to get rid of us. My mother begged him not to, as she had kept up her side of the deal. In the end, Biff agreed to a compromise. Instead of putting my brothers and I in foster care, he would send us to boarding school.

So, in September of 1976 Dave, Marty, and I were shipped off to Boston. We were thirteen, eight, and eleven. Marty was expelled in April because he got into one fight too many with the same kid who called him "chicken". He was usually a sensible kid, but he got all riled up whenever somebody called him "scaredy cat" or " chicken". Once bullies figured that out, they could get Marty to do pretty much anything. He was sent to a boarding school in Quebec.

Dave was expelled the following November, after one of the teachers found him and his buddies drunk on the school grounds. I don't know how they got alcohol, as they were all only fourteen or fifteen.

Marty kept getting himself expelled because of fights and abysmal grades. He was shunted to boarding schools all over the world; Canada, Japan, England, Peru, France, Switzerland, and yes, Timbuktu. Marty always sent me letters, and tapes of himself playing his acoustic guitar (which he bought himself). He was really a gifted musician. Maybe, in another life, he'd have become famous for his songs.

In 1979, when he was sixteen, Dave just sort of... Quit school. He worked whatever jobs he could get his hands on and he greatly enjoyed his newfound "freedom". He lived for a while with the older brother of one of his friends. This guy was of drinking age, and willing to buy anyone a drink if they paid him back. Working fast food couldn't get Dave the money he needed, so every few months he'd come crawling back to Biff for money. And Biff was happy to oblige.

See, every time Biff lent Dave money, Dave grew deeper in debt to him. And the more money Dave owed Biff, the tighter the noose around my mother. My mother threatened to leave Biff many times over the years, but what held her back was a desire to protect my brothers and I. If she left him, Biff would stop paying for Marty and I to go to school, and he would leave Dave to settle his own debts. We'd all be homeless, fast. So she stayed with Biff.

I graduated high school, class of '82. I was accepted to UCLA. Biff decided that now I was eighteen, I was no longer his problem. I paid for college completely on my own, with a small federal student loan. I was determined that when the time came, I would pay for Marty to go to college of I had to, if that's what it took. He didn't care about getting an education, he just wanted to be a rockstar. Probably the only reason he didn't drop out of high school like Dave was out of love for our mom. Marty knew she wanted him to finish high school, so he promised he would. But I struggled with how the heck I was going to get him to go to college.

I needn't have worried. Marty got kicked out of a boarding school in Switzerland in December of 1985. He decided to spend Christmas break with our mother, at home. Something none of us had done in years. By that time, Biff had turned Hill Valley into a nightmare. Casinos everywhere, drunks and motorcyclists roaming the streets, gangs shooting at and/or vandalizing everything that moved. The high school was actually burned down in '79. In one of his letters to me over the summer, Marty re named it "Hell Valley" which was accurate. I doubt hell could be much worse than what Biff did to my hometown.

Obviously none of us wanted to go back there. Dave visited every now and then for money, and Marty had to return home every summer for two months. I stayed in touch with my mom through letters and phone calls, only visiting Hill Valley occasionally, when I knew Biff wasn't around.

Late at night on December 23rd, my mom came home to find Biff in the hot tub with two random women. She knew he'd been cheating on her for years, but that was the first time she'd caught him at it. He didn't even have the chivalry to be ashamed. When my mom chased Biff's two lady friends out of the penthouse, he was furious. In his drunken state, he began physically beating her.

Marty overheard, and he just couldn't stand it. He burst into the room and attacked Biff, yelling at him to stay away from our mother. But Marty was a little guy, and Biff was massive. He was about a foot taller than Marty, and at least twice as heavy. Biff threw Marty off him easily, but that didn't satisfy him. Like I said, Biff had always hated Marty more than he hated me or Dave. Biff grabbed his gun and started shooting at Marty, who had to flee for his life.

Biff's personal guard blocked Marty from going down, so Biff cornered him on the roof. At that point, Marty had two choices. He could charge Biff and hope to disarm him, or he could jump. I believe that Marty planned to choose the latter- if he was going to die, he didn't want to give Biff the satisfaction of killing him. My mother made it to the roof just in time to watch Biff shoot Marty as Marty was about to jump off the roof. I don't know whether the twenty seven story fall killed him or the bullet, but either way, he died. And he was only seventeen. Marty

I woke up early on the morning of December 24th to my phone ringing. I answered it to hear my mom sob to me what had happened. Biff had forbidden her to call the police. She warned me not to, but I wasn't just going to let Biff get away with murdering my little brother. I called the police on him. Unfortunately, they decided that my mother had been drunk and hallucinating. Marty's death was put down to suicide.

I graduated UCLA with a degree in fashion design in 1986. That same year, Dave was found dead in an alley in New York, alcohol in his blood and a bullet in his head. My mother sank deeper and deeper into depression and drank steadily. In 1987, I convinced her to leave Biff and live in LA with me. After all, Dave and Marty were dead and I was well off in life, so his threats about harming us if she left him were empty. My mother became free for the first time in fifteen years.

When she moved in with me, she revealed a most interesting possesion. After Marty was killed, she had gone through his things and found my dad's binder hidden in his suitcase. We determined that he must have stolen it from Biff's office that night eleven years earlier. How he'd done it, and how he had hidden it over the years, was a mystery.

Inside the binder, I discovered a newer notebook, in Marty's handwriting. It was full of songs he had written himself! Seeing those songs made me wish I knew how to read music.

I missed Marty terribly, and I was outraged that Biff hadn't been punished for his crimes. In 1990, after years of hard work, I proved to the police that the games in Biff's Pleasure Palace were rigged, Biff had been cheating on my mother, and that he had killed Marty. After careful inspection of Biff's gun, the police determined that he had killed my father as well. Biff was sentenced to life in prison in 1992. My mother died shortly after. Alcohol poisoning.

I was alone for a while, until I met your father, Marty. He gave me something I hadn't had in along time. Happiness. The best part was, I knew he was the first person I cared about that Biff couldn't take away from me. He's a very caring man. When you were born, he let me name you. Martin after my little brother, your uncle. You're like him because you're stubborn and not afraid to stand up for yourself and those you love. You've got big dreams, too, just like he did. And George, after the father I barely remember. I know you're like him though. The stories you come up with are very like the talk tales he used to tell. 

"...which is why, Marty," says Linda. " That I think you should have his old binder. "

Marty had listened to his mom's story in raptured, fascinated silence. Now though, his silence is due to shock. "...what? Wait, really?" He stammers. "Are you sure, mom? I mean, it's probably got sentimental value..."

Linda laughs. It feels good. "Yes. C'mere."

Soon Marty is standing in his mother's bedroom as she pulls out a cardboard box from beneath her bed. Out of the box comes an old, tattered binder full of loose leaf paper and half broken notebooks. Linda holds it out to Marty, and he takes it like the precious treasure that it is. "I hope you can find something in there to inspire you." Linda says.

"Of course, " Marty breathes, "but are you sure you want to-"

His mom cuts him off. "What Am I supposed to do with it? I'm not a writer. It's been sitting in that box for over two decades, ever since I got it. Just take care of it."

" thank you! " Marty envelopes Linda in a tight hug. "I will treasure this forever!"

"He really is a lot like them, " says Linda softly to herself as she watches her son pore over the old dusty notebooks. I

A few weeks later, Marty finds himself in Oak Park cemetary, looking down at four graves that, somehow miraculously, sit side by side.

Lorraine Baines McFly Tannen

February 10, 1938 - July 9, 1992

Here lies a mother who valued her children more than herself.

David Arthur McFly

September 13, 1963 - August 25, 1986

"Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die. "

And there lay the two men for whom Marty had been named.

In loving memory,

George Douglas McFly

February 28, 1938 - March 15, 1973

Martin Seamus McFly June 23, 1968 - December 23, 1985

"I don't really understand

the feelings that I feel,

So I just keep on keep on going,

I keep on keeping it real"

Marty recognizes the words on his namesake's tombstone as lyrics from the only fully completed song in the first Marty's notebook. He guesses that his mothat chose them because she had the song on tape.

Marty steps back to survey the graves. "My mom named me after you," he says, "so I'm not going to let you down."


End file.
